


Sweet Nothings

by thisislegit



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Background polygang, F/M, Introspection, Lupin's POV, Multi, Romance, Sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, its just hinted, super background polygang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisislegit/pseuds/thisislegit
Summary: Lupin knew not only would it be impossible to catch Fujiko, but any attempts to rope her into permanent domesticity would be their ruin. She and Lupin floated alongside each other like gusts of wind...no, that was too flighty. More like clouds. Hmm. No, maybe more like a fish trying to swim upstream. Actually, nevermind the metaphor. If he wanted metaphors, he'd ask a samurai. The point was they worked together just fine as they were. So moments like watching her get up in the morning, or making a meal for her, or getting her a gift were to be cherished.
Relationships: Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Sweet Nothings

**Author's Note:**

> un-beta'd gushing about fujiko from lupins perspective

Not a soul could say that Lupin didn't know what being in love was. He dived into it, swam in it, breathed in it each time he had the opportunity, and there were many opportunities to be had. There was something about the chase, the yearning, the lust dotting or at times smearing the egregiously romantic patterns that being in love gave him which made him seek it out as eagerly as any adrenaline rush gained from a job.

And there was no one who could give him that thrill as good as Fujiko Mine. A vixen who so easily donned the mask of a saint. And her masks were numerous beyond that. Was she a woman? An angel? A devil? Many might ask the same of him, and to put her into any one category for long did her a great disservice. He'd played detective enough times for shits and giggles to know how to savor a good mystery, and Fujiko was shrouded in it. Always changing, always blossoming into something so tantalizing that Lupin found he never wanted to cast aside the fog and find the truth about her. Yet, one couldn't say he wasn't a fast learner nonetheless.

It wasn't so much as him finding out more about her like her past or where she came from,but Lupin prided himself on his mind and most especially his memory. Forgetting history meant one was doomed to repeat it, and Lupin didn't want to become predictable, so he remembered all he could.

What Fujiko liked to forget, and what Lupin himself sometimes forgot, was that the best lies had a root of truth in them. Fortunately, Lupin was an eager gardener.

"Why did you get me these ugly things? I only like lotus flowers," Fujiko said as they stood together at the railing.

They were on a party boat floating down the Thames River. Lupin bought up most of the tickets, but not too many in that there were some stragglers here and there whilst leaving the caterers confused.

At the time he'd sighed and handed the sweet pink dahlias to another man passing by with his partner in tow. He'd remember. Lotus flowers for his dearest.

However, the next time he'd come armed with the appropriate flower, she'd turned her nose up at the extravagant bouquet.

"Lotus flowers? Those aren't really for me. You should know my favorites are red camelias." Just like that, another bouquet tossed into someone else's arms. The little cafe in Giza was bustling with people, and there were a few shocked gasps behind him that he ignored in order to take her hands into his own and kiss her knuckles in apology. Where the flowers landed he didn't see, no need to check, but Lupin remembered for next time.

So when next time came. Fujiko flipped her hair over her shoulder and pouted at him welding the red camelias on 

"Lupin~," She'd spoke so gently, "I wonder if you really know me at all."

Lounging on a beach in Itoshima, Lupin's shoulders slumped, and even the flower petals seemed to wilt a bit.

"Columbine flowers, lover. Remember that for next time." Fujiko winked at him before placing her sunglasses on.

He remembered. What else could Lupin do, but it was one evening as he poured himself a thumb of whiskey with his partner that he realized something. For Fujiko, it was not about the flowers, but the difficulty to obtain a certain kind depending on the place they were in. The harder a flower was to find in a certain country, the more likely it was to be her favorite. He was right of course, and he liked being right, and he liked the puckered lipstick mark on his cheek he'd receive in thanks for being right.

It was this lesson and more that made him love the chase. Now, don't get him wrong. Lupin could very well wax on about the sway of her hips, the cant of her voice, and the swell of her breasts, but that's baseline observation. Anyone could do that, and Lupin prided himself on blending in with the crowd only when he felt like it. Not to mention none of those people who took in these traits about her first knew what she really looked like getting out of bed in the morning.

Lupin had feigned sleep on multiple occasions to catch her routine before she slipped into the morning sunrise. He saw the smears of mascara and eyeliner along the tops of her cheeks. He saw the luxurious hair wildly framed and tangled while she fruitlessly ran her hands through the strands. He got to see her hunched over form as she yawned and scratched her belly before making the slow trek to the bathroom. Some mornings it'd be an awkward hobble, but that depended on the previous nights' activities.

One time, he'd been caught staring. Fujiko was in the middle of stretching, her pajama covered arms forming an A-shape with her hands clasped together reaching for the ceiling. There was a distinct pop, and a pleased groan that came from her throat which Lupin found so adorable he let out a small huff before he could stop himself. He'd closed his eyes when he'd realized what he'd done, but he could feel her gaze on him. Probably staring at him over her shoulder. This was it, he'd thought. Now she'd get up earlier, or leave right afterwards never to share a bed with him again.

He felt a warm hand on his cheek, and chapped lips kiss his forehead before both touches vanished. The weight of the bed shifted, and Lupin missed her little hobble to the bathroom, but Fujiko didn't stop sharing a bed with him after that. It was almost as though the kiss was permission. Like she was saying only Lupin could see her in such a state, and it made his heart swell. Then he wondered how long she knew he'd been watching, and continued to feign sleep just in case that was a one time thing. It was easier that way. Safer, his traitorous mind supplied.

Lupin knew not only would it be impossible to catch Fujiko, but any attempts to rope her into permanent domesticity would be their ruin. She and Lupin floated alongside each other like gusts of wind...no, that was too flighty. More like clouds. Hmm. No, maybe more like a fish trying to swim upstream. Actually, nevermind the metaphor. If he wanted metaphors, he'd ask a samurai. The point was they worked together just fine as they were. So moments like watching her get up in the morning, or making a meal for her, or getting her a gift were to be cherished.

Fujiko was nothing if not a series of stunning visuals and interesting habits. Outside of the flower preference, she was also the type to craft and collect stained glass pieces. A part of him desperately wanted to know the story behind this hobby. Glass had no value outside of the common household fixtures and some unique weaponized uses. The colors could match jewelry, and some places thought certain sculpts by certain artists held more value than gold and gems. The curiosity lied in Fujiko never seeming to be the type. She hated fake diamonds. Fake rubies, fake sapphires, fake emeralds or any precious stone that wasn't the real thing in her jewelry would be just as easily tossed into the sea before it would ever grace her neck.

"I'm allergic to fake gold," She'd told him when he held up a necklace to her for the first time. She was smiling as if there was a secret between them. So he didn't take the statement seriously at the time.

It'd been a test, he would admit. Would she be able to tell if the diamonds in the necklace weren't actually real, and if so would she assume cubic zirconia or glass? He'd wanted to see if she was as skilled as the rumors and his information gathering told him, or if they were only rumors. Unsurprisingly, she took a hold of the necklace, made a face and handed it back to him before taking her bag and leaving the restaurant. She didn't stay long enough to get the real thing in his hidden jacket pocket. At least that's what he thought before he checked said pocket and found it gone only to see it draped on her neck in their next encounter. He felt sappy just thinking about how enamoured he'd become with her in that one instance.

What might've been a claim for greed masked under sly flirting was actually an err of truth. Fake gold made her palms itch, and fake silver caused a discoloration of skin where it touched. Nothing deadly as she would claim, but more an annoying affliction.

Which is why only real gold and real silver went into her stained glass pieces.

"To give them some value?" He'd asked.

"I suppose," she'd replied. A beat passed. "Actually, yes," she'd corrected.

Lupin knew she was covering for herself. For the real reason she used such expensive metals for her equally expensive but dangerous craft was simply because she liked the way it looked when all put together. He'd seen her take bits of broken glass from a heist and slip them into a small sack when she thought no one was looking. Making memories of her own without a single camera. His heart thudded in his chest at the thought.

Sappy. Sickly sweet for the clever and mysterious Fujiko Mine. He admitted when they were younger, he'd made an idiot of himself for her. Sometimes he regretted it deeply, earning the ire of his partners with each lost score. Eventually, he was able to find balance. Thank god he did. Empty pockets and emptier stomachs could only be tolerated for so long with a reputation as big as Lupin's. Not to mention the crossroads of her or them that would've spurred much more seriously than he could ever handle. He didn't want to choose, so he adjusted, and it worked.

This adjustment fueled a fire in Fujiko that made Lupin more eager to challenge her, to catch her off guard, to push her as much as she liked to push him, and it was clear she liked their dynamic change much better than he could've imagined. Especially since it came at the cost of them both having to reveal a little more about themselves to the other. Truth mixed in with lies like a cocktail that didn't hit until one stood from their seat. Just enough to teeter someone off balance until they wonder when and how they'd gotten on the floor.

Oh, how Lupin loved her for it. He loved when she snatched a straw for herself when he was caught blowing bubbles into his drink. He loved the way she tapped the heel of a new shoe against the ground to see whether or not it was hollow, a perfect place to hide money or a weapon if need be, an awful pair to run in otherwise. He loved how she would snap her fingers and hum along to a tune if she really  _ really _ enjoyed the song. He loved that she only knew how to cook frozen meals and would sooner bribe or hire someone else to do the cooking for her. He loved when she found words weren't enough and would give him or their partners a hard pinch behind the back to emphasize her distaste for something. Or how Fujiko would sweep dust under the rug when she was feeling lazy. Or how Fujiko would hold their collective prize from a good heist in awe of the wealth and her own accomplishments before hiding it away for herself if she'd planned on stealing it for the day. And Fujiko,  _ Fujiko _ ,  **_Fujiko~_ ** !

"Lupin?"

Lupin looked up from the blueprint finding dozens of small hearts scribbled where there should be notes and quickly covered them with his arms, "Yes Fujiko-chan?"

"Zenigata has policemen swarming the streets right now, so we're ordering out and some people, " ,she pointedly looked behind her where Goemon and Jigen were holed up in the living room, "can't make a decision. Do you want pizza or Chinese?"

Lupin, seeing the opportunity for what it was, swiveled around in his chair and leaned back appearing nonchalant. "Which one's your favorite?"

An innocent question, but perhaps it was the suspicion of Lupin always wanting to learn more about Fujiko that gave her earthy brown eyes a mischievous sparkle.

"I don't mind either, but I'm a little partial to roast duck. My great grandmother was from Taiwan."

A lie, and a truth. Lupin grinned at her, "Really? My grandfather on my mom's side was from there too. I wouldn't mind eating some dumplings for him in remembrance."

"I'll let Jigen know he's outnumbered 3 to 1," she winked.

Lupin looked at her from head to toe. Her hair, now a bright orange, held out of her face in a messy bun, little makeup except for a clear gloss and day old eyeliner, an oversized t-shirt that hid the edges of satin pajama shorts stopping at mid thigh, and striped knee high socks to battle the cool air in the house. She looked comfortable. He could feel himself swooning all over again, the fever of his feelings for her never waning despite the hindrance it brought at times.

When he realized he'd zoned out, she was already right in front of him.

"Like what you see?"

"Always." Lupin leaned up puckering his lips and was rewarded with a huff before tacky, perfect, lips briefly met his own. "Give Jigen a kiss for me in apology."

"Do it yourself." Fujiko gave him another kiss on the lips and was gone as quick as she'd come.

Not a soul could say that Lupin didn't know what being in love was. He dived into it, swam in it, breathed in it each time he had the opportunity, and there were many opportunities to be had with Fujiko Mine.

**Author's Note:**

> dont know what its like to be in love but i keep hearing things about it i do not like, as sweet as it looks sometimes idk man


End file.
